


A Storybook Ending

by MosswineLeader



Category: Original Work
Genre: Dark, Fantasy, Magic, Modern Day, Sisters, Transported to another world
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-12
Updated: 2016-01-27
Packaged: 2018-05-13 11:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5706184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MosswineLeader/pseuds/MosswineLeader
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two sisters are drawn into another world and have to find their way back home, learning about themselves, each other, and the world they now inhabit to survive the journey.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the beginning

**Author's Note:**

> This is an ongoing work I'm doing in my spare time. It's also the first work I've ever published, so if anyone wants to offer feedback, I would be very grateful. Good, bad, I don't care which, so long as it's constructive. Thanks again for reading my story! I'll try to have a new chapter every week.

Once upon a time, there lived a brave heroine. Nobody knew her name, but they knew she loved books, so they called her ‘The Librarian’. The Librarian lived in a magical land, full of elves and dwarves and fairies and all other manner of storybook beings. She loved her land very much, though sometimes she had to defend it against nefarious villains. Fortunately, she didn’t have to do all that hard work alone. There were many friends she could call upon when necessary.

Hjoral Gemhammer, a mighty dwarf with a mightier hammer, counted himself among her most trusted friends and advised her on political matters. Ywyllin Breezewalker, an elven scholar, whiled away many long nights with The Librarian discussing magic. Velkur An-Mok, the most legendary orcish horseback archer to ever live, served as her ears while he travelled the world to collect news. Pippin the Grainmaster, a halfling of questionable repute but with a heart of gold, never left her side. They were only a few of the many, for The Librarian lived in her most cherished land for many, many years. Then, one day, she vanished. Her friends knew where she went, but refused to tell any other souls for as long as they lived. 

Closing the storybook, barely two chapters in, little Portia’s mother smiled at her only daughter, who had drifted away into a pleasant sleep with dreams full of heroes and magic. She looked down at the book, running a finger over the spine with care. _Her_ mother had read these same stories to her when she was a child, and since she loved them so dearly, she decided to make it a habit for her daughter. 

Little Portia, the third to carry the family name, had just turned four the day before, and asked for a bedtime story for the first time in her life. Why not these? Lady Gatesbrook the Second kissed her daughter’s forehead, turned off her lamp, and quietly left the room. 

~~~

Finally! Her thirteenth birthday party! Portia Wellington Gatesbrook the Third was thirteen at last. Not that thirteen meant anything in particular, but it was another year closer to adulthood. Another year closer to getting away from her stifling parents. Another year closer to exploring the world like she’d always dreamed about.

To celebrate the occasion, she’d snuck into the mostly unused fourth floor of her mansion home, into batty old Granny Gatesbrook’s library, and squirreled away a dusty tome at random, along with a few other ‘occult’ odds and ends. There weren’t many children invited to her party, but that was alright by her. They could play with each other all they wanted. She didn’t really know the other children in her neighborhood (if one could call the sprawling countryside her wealthy, elite parents lived in that), and the few she did know were insufferable brats.

Still, her mother had to send invites to the others, if only to keep up appearances. Several families showed up and basically hijacked little Portia’s party after the clock rang seven, but that suited her just fine too. More breathing room to get up to mischief. Taking a seat in the center of her room, the birthday girl cracked open the dusty leather tome, wrinkling her nose at the musty smell. What were these pages made of? It wasn’t paper, that was for sure. Cloth, maybe? No, no, cloth had a different texture…

Shaking her head, Portia ignored it and began to read, starting at the table of contents. “Spells? Rituals? Bestiary? What kind of book is this?” Before she could delve too deep into it, however, her adopted older sister came into the room, pushing up her thick glasses and quirking a brow. Portia instantly snapped her book shut, looking up guiltily.

“Whatever yer fuckin’ with, I ain’t int’rested,” she murmured, rubbing her temples with one hand and carrying her creaking bookbag to her side of the room.

“H-hey, Bea. How was school? You’re home really late.” Lame conversation, yes, but she’d been caught in the act and was nervous.

Bea West and her mother Magdaline West had been taken in by Portia’s family a few years back. Bea had only two years on her new younger sister, but they had so little in common that the two hardly spent any time together. Ms. West had taken up tutoring Portia instead of teaching at the local school at Mrs. Gatesbrook the Second’s insistence. After all, she was living in their house, why shouldn’t she teach their daughter? Mr. West had been killed in the fire that took their home from them, which is why they’d been moved in the first place.

Why the Gatesbrook residence in particular? Because Mrs. Gatesbrook the Second fancied herself a philanthropist. The Wests were well known in the little community as an honest, hardworking family, always donating spare produce from their farm and doing work around town. Losing Mr. West had been a huge blow to the community, and having his widow being provided for by the Gatesbrook family made them look like saints.

Taking after her father, Bea was a farmhand at heart, despite the glasses. She stood at five foot ten and pushed a hundred and fifty pounds. The country girl’s auburn hair usually sat in a low ponytail, and her bangs hung down over her emerald eyes. Her skin was naturally dark, dusted with freckles, and despite how much she roughed it up, still had a soft look to it. Bea loved to eat, after all. Loved to cook too, and as a result her otherwise Amazonian frame had a nice, disarming layer of cushion wrapping it.

In total contrast, Portia was rail thin, pasty white, and had long raven hair and blue eyes. Many remarked that she resembled a porcelain doll, something she resented wholeheartedly and her mother adored. To be tall, graceful, beautiful… _that_ was what Portia wanted, not to be someone’s little fragile doll.

“Stupid, same’s always,” Bea finally answered, leafing through her textbook. She had three separate notebooks spread on the bed beside her, crammed full of notes, and still had trouble grasping her chemistry homework. School had always plagued her. Bea just wanted to work the land and tend animals with her dad. If all she ever amounted to was a dumb bumpkin who died a spinster, alone on horseback, well that was just fine with her. That didn’t mean she was stupid, though.

Portia was getting into something she shouldn’t be, and Bea knew it. Glancing sidelong at her sister, who fidgeted nervously under the sudden gaze, Bea slowly set her book aside and sat up. “W-w-what? Why are you looking at me that way?”

Crooking a knowing finger at Portia, the elder sister pointed to the foot of her bed. “You look like you jus’ got caught fingers deep in Mam’s blackburry pie. What’chu got there, squirt? Pony up.” Oh no. Though it shouldn’t have been possible, Portia paled further as she hesitantly got to her feet. The girl handed over the book she’d swiped from Granny’s library, letting Bea examine it.

“Well, well… Ain’t this one’a yer Gran’s books? Shit… looks old.”

“Mother said not to swear,” Portia reminded Bea automatically, then clapped a hand over her mouth as her sister raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah, well ain’t Miss Th’ Second said you was t’never go up’n get books from yer Gran’s place?” she countered, opening the tome. Bea ran a finger over the first page, letting loose a low whistle, then scrunched up her nose as she peered at it. “Book’s so old th’ words is all jumbled. This’ gen-yew-ine vellum, though. Couple’a hunnerd years old, I’d say, an’ in good condition.”

“Vellum? You mean like…”

“Animal hide, yawp.”

Portia blanched, sticking her tongue out in disgust. “Well, it does talk about spells and rituals in the table of contents, so I should not be surprised. Heathen savages love to make things seem more complex and sacrosanct than is entirely necessary.” At Bea’s dumbfounded look, Portia climbed up onto her bed and pointed at the table of contents. “See? ‘Spells’ here. ‘Rituals’ here, and so on. The book is quite extensive, it seems.”

Looking back and forth between the unreadable, almost squirming text and her younger sister, Bea turned skeptical. “Yer fuckin’ with me. Ain’t no way you c’n read this. Wha’s this say here?” She pointed to a word which Portia assured her was ‘seventeen’. Not satisfied, Bea flipped through the book at random, stopping on a page packed with messy scrawl. The whole damn thing was handwritten! “An’ this’n? Read this whole paragraph. I’ll know’f yer lyin’.”

Gingerly taking the book back from her sister, Portia sat crosslegged and scanned the paragraph. “Um… This is only a fragment, it won’t make sense out of context.”

“Fine, read all’v it. Why you always gotta make shit complicated?” Portia pouted slightly, feeling the sting of Bea’s words. She looked up to her cooler older sister. While she didn’t necessarily attempt to emulate her, Portia did desire Bea’s approval. She took a deep breath and started where she thought the beginning was.

“ _Rantai yang mengikat, kata-kata diucapkan, pemandangan ghaib, saya mendedahkan anda!_ ” Portia began, her voice echoing almost imperceptibly. The hair on Bea’s arms stood up and she knew instantly that Portia was actually reading from the book. She opened her mouth to stop her younger sister, but couldn’t speak. Portia continued on heedless, one arm outstretched as she continued the incantation. As the raven haired girl reached the end of the page, it turned by itself, allowing her to keep going without interrupting the ritual, which frightened the both of them. Bea could see it on Portia’s face that she wanted to stop, but couldn’t.

As she continued to read, Portia began to speak faster and faster, raising her voice. Upon speaking the final word, her outstretched hand spurted out a gout of blood, which fell upwards onto the ceiling. Bea and Portia looked up, staring at the bizarre and arcane design, which slowly began to bubble. “B-B-B-Bea… W-what’s that?” she asked, voice quavering in fear.

Before an answer could come, the ceiling exploded downwards on them, eliciting a surprised yelp from the two. An unrelenting force bore down on them, drawing them into the now swirling black void. The last thing the two girls saw was old Gran Gatesbrook standing in the doorway, trembling with anger. She pointed one accusatory finger at Portia and howled a curse at her, and then the two girls were gone.


	2. Not in Kansas anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Portia and Bea find themselves in a strange and frightening new place.

Portia woke slowly, a pounding ache in her head and, for some reason, in her left hand. She tried to sit up, but couldn’t. There was something across her chest, hips, and legs which prevented her from doing so. Forcing her eyes open, the girl looked around, trying to figure out where she was. It was dark, for one thing, but not oppressively so. The next thing she realized was that she was naked, and the table she’d been strapped to was very cold. What was going on!?

A surge of panic rippled through her and she strained against the leather straps, though her scrawny physique could no more budge them than could she lift a car with one hand. A noise behind her caught her attention. Portia attempted to twist around and see what it was, with no success. “H-hello?”

“Squirt! Oh thank god… Portia, what’s goin’ on? I cain’t see a damn thing an’ I’m stuck on a table.” Bea sounded scared, which in turn scared Portia. Bea wasn’t scared of _anything_. Not even those wild dogs that had attacked them once.

“Um… I can’t really see much either. We appear to be in some sort of cave. The walls are made of a strange stone, at least, and it looks natural. There are tables against the walls, cluttered with… glass? Round bottles on little metal stands.” There wasn’t much else to look at, honestly. Aside from a few other tables identical to the ones she and Bea were strapped to, the room was barren. Her breath caught in her chest when a pair of… monsters walked through a hidden alcove in the wall to her lower right.

One stood upright, appearing to be a mix of octopus and man. It glided around on many tentacles attached to a cylindrical torso. The being’s bulbous, sac-like head was covered in eyes, which constantly blinked and rolled around. Four delicate looking arms began to interact with a table full of scientific instruments, clanking things around.

The companion to that already horrific abomination was what truly frightened Portia, though. It had the body of a spider, but instead of a normal spider’s head, it had a fearsome maw that split it’s face vertically, lined with razor sharp teeth. Several compound eyes dotted the sides of it’s head, giving it vision above, in front, and below it. “What’s that noise?” Bea asked, hearing the sound of glass clinking together.

Simultaneously, master and guardian turned to face them in surprise, apparently unaware the two were awake. The taller being gurgled wetly, gesturing with one arm for the spider-beast to leave. Octopus head slithered over to the girls, continuing to make noises. It was faintly bioluminescent, allowing Bea to see it and instantly panic. With a surge of strength that came from seemingly nowhere, the elder sister burst through her straps and rolled off the table, fists up and ready to deck the octopus monster. It jerked backwards in surprise, raising it’s arms in front of it. “Y-yeah! Yeah, you best be ‘fraid’a me! I’ll break yer damn arms off an’ shove ‘em up whatever shit hole you have, you get any closer!”

Portia made a face. Sometimes Bea could be very crude, though the situation _did_ warrant it a bit. Bea grabbed hold of the straps and attempted to break them, but couldn’t. “Hey! HEY! I’m talkin’ t’you, freakshow! Undo this crap!” She gestured at the straps binding Portia, then at the octopus monster several times to communicate what she wanted. It seemed hesitant to get anywhere near the human until she raised a fist and advanced on it. The monster slithered around a table, keeping distance between it and Bea, but complied. As soon as Portia was free, she went straight for one of the science equipment-laden tables and grabbed a glass vial, holding it up in what she hoped was a threatening manner.

“Bea! Come over here, there are makeshift weapons you can use!” Bea followed her sister’s voice and accepted one of the vials. She smashed it against the table, leaving a jagged looking cylinder in her hand. The octopus monster burbled in alarm, moving closer and wringing it’s hands nervously. Bea brandished her shiv, warding it off. Unfortunately for her, the spider beast returned with two more octopus things, who instantly called out to their fellow with concern. The spider beast rushed towards Bea, hissing threateningly.

Reacting on instinct, Bea stepped forward to meet the spider’s charge, following the noise instead of her eyes, and slashed downwards with the broken vial. It pierced her assailant’s chitinous covering, causing the creature to shriek in pain. One of the newcomers called it away, lowering itself to examine the beast. “Bea… I don’t think they’re gonna hurt us,” Portia commented quietly.

“Wh… You jus’ gave me a weapon an’ was actin’ all scared! Now you think they ain’t gonna hurt us? I mean, I _did_ jus’ stab some fuckin’ hiss monster, so I bet they ain’t gonna try anythin’ soon. Why, exactly, d’you think they ain’t gonna hurt us?”

“They look scared.” Portia offered no other explanation as she pulled her sister away from the broken glass on the ground. “Stay here.” She stepped around the ground hazard and approached the first being, the one that had been there the longest, and raised a hand. It flinched away from her, though upon noticing the sigil inscribed on her left palm, it made an excited noise and came closer. She let it touch her hand, though after a moment Portia pulled her hand away. “Clothes,” she said slowly, gesturing at her body.

The being turned to its fellows, questioning them. The one not tending the spider beast responded and they left. Portia’s new ‘friend’ was still nervous around her, especially since Bea was there, but since they weren’t being openly hostile, it relaxed somewhat. Bea grew bored fairly quickly and took to rolling around another vial in her hands. After five minutes of silence, one of the others returned, carrying two bundles wrapped in a strange looking leather. It set them on a lab table in the middle of the room and backed away, questioning its comrade.

Portia ignored their conversation, grabbing Bea’s hand and leading her to the table. They dressed quickly, glad to finally be clothed again. “Wait… Where’s my book?”

“Huh?”

“The book, Bea. The one that started all this. I need it back so I can figure out what even happened.”

Bea scratched her head. “Uh...how d’you know it even came with us?” Obviously the thought didn’t occur to Portia beforehand and she slowly sat down on the floor. What if it didn’t go with them? How was she supposed to get them back home? What… Her train of thought derailed when Bea grabbed her and hauled her to her feet.

“Mopin’ around ain’t gonna do anythin’. Let’s get a move on. Fig’r out where th’ hell we are. Hey! You! Yeah, you, I know yer understandin’ when I talk atcha. Move it! Out!” She gestured towards where the other beings had come in, waiting til her ‘captive’ moved ahead of them before following. It led them into a large antechamber where a large number of the creatures roamed around, going about their daily lives. The room had an eerie feel to it, as the only lighting came from a huge swarm of fireflies, buzzing around the ceiling.

A pair of the spider monsters approached with handlers who held long, wicked spears at the ready. The octopus monster that had been leading the girls quickly raised its hands and explained the situation. After a moment, the guards raised their spears to a less threatening stance, but they didn’t leave. 

Portia thought of her book again, though this time there was a slight tug at her mind. She looked in the direction it came from and noticed a large cluster of the many-eyed beings. Gripping Bea’s sleeve, she pointed in that direction. “I think… I think the book’s over there.” With a nod, Bea led her sister over to the cluster, still clutching a yet-unbroken vial in her hand. The guards trailed them nervously, but made no move to stop them.

“Excuse me!” Portia called to the monsters, peeking out from behind her sister. A few turned to look, though upon spotting the humans they made noises of surprise and scattered. There, on a lectern and surrounded by fireflies, sat Portia’s book. She rushed over and snatched it up, watching the fireflies zip away as she cradled the tome to her chest.

“Awright, you got th’ damn book, let’s split.” 

“ ‘Split’ where, Bea? We have no idea where we are. Give me a moment to do some research, please?” Bea sighed and took up a vigil by her sister, glaring at the guards and their monsters. Honestly, they frightened her, but since she had been acting so tough before, they seemed afraid to mess with her, and she was content to let them stay that way. If she’d known what that spider thing was beforehand, Bea wasn’t sure she’d have had the courage to stab it.

Spells. That was a section in the book. Portia mused to herself about what would be helpful. Being able to understand these things would, certainly. Of its own volition, the book flipped through many pages, coming to a stop on a page with a short list of language spells. There was one for universal understanding! She read the entirety of it, including notes made in the margins. It would only last for an hour or so, but that was more than enough for Portia. She spoke the words aloud, feeling her left hand burn in response.

Her hearing suddenly got muffled, as if she’d gotten cotton stuffed in her ears. When it faded, she was a little more tired than usual, but everyone around her appeared to speak English. She smiled and tucked her tome under an arm. “Excuse me,” she called to one of the guards. It turned to face her curiously, grumbling under its breath about the ‘Exalted Ottugh’ and how it should have just killed the short elves instead of bringing them in to cause trouble.

“Sorry, we didn’t mean to make trouble. We, um… We aren’t elves. We’re people. Human people? Do-” Cutting her off with a strangled cry of panic, the octopus men bowed before them. Portia turned to her sister, hands raised defensively, but Bea had no idea what was going on either.

“Forgive us, humans! We… there hasn’t been a human in our world for a thousand years. We assumed they were myths.” There hadn’t been a-.... What? No humans? Where the hell were they, then?

“Please, do not do that. We aren’t royalty. I am Portia Wellington Gatesbrook the Third, and this is my sister, Bea West. We just want to leave. We’re sorry for causing trouble.” How did they understand her? The spell said it was one way… Bea certainly seemed lost. “May we speak to whomever is in charge here?”

Bowing even lower, the guards straightened up and beckoned for their suddenly esteemed guests to follow them. Their path dipped into a claustrophobia inducing tunnel before emerging into another cavern. In the center sat an even more horrifying monster than the ones they’d already seen. It looked like a massive brain the size of an elephant, covered in eyes and tendrils. Several of the octopus beings were tending to it, massaging it’s glistening sides or smearing some kind of jelly on it. Several of the creature’s eyes focused on them, pupils widening slightly.

For almost a full two minutes, the guards and the massive brain monster simply stared at one another, but then they suddenly bowed and moved behind the humans. “Humans…” came a voice from everywhere and nowhere. Both Portia and Bea flinched and looked around. “After so long, humans have returned. This is an ill omen.”

Portia and Bea’s vision went white with pain as the creature psychically touched their minds. They could feel it probing around in their memories, leaving a trail of burning agony in its wake. Screaming out in pain, Portia pushed it out of her head, which surprised it. Bea collapsed to her knees, clutching her head and sobbing, but Portia was angry. That was unwarranted, uninvited, and unacceptable. Snapping out her right hand, she caused the tome to open and hover by her hand, her left stretched towards the brain monster.

The being’s eyes widened fearfully and it began to quiver, tendrils shaking in desperation. It apologized profusely. The things that attended to it were used to such intrusions. It meant nothing by it, just wanting to learn about the girls. Slowly, Portia calmed down, tucking her book back under her arm. They were in another world, where the denizens acted completely different than she was used to. What one considered an insult, the other may consider a simple fact of life.

It asked if it could try again, if it made an absolute effort to be gentle. After considering it for a while, Portia agreed. “Only if you leave Bea alone,” she added as a caveat. It felt good to be able to protect her sister. The massive brain touched her mind again, ensuring it didn’t press too firmly. Portia allowed it to examine her memory, though she also pushed back and felt into it’s mind as well, which surprised the being.

She learned a great deal about what it was. The Exalted Ottugh, leader of the beings around it, also called Ottughs. They were a psionic race, able to understand any sentient creature by virtue of their great mental capabilities. As beings of science, they were quite advanced in their ability to understand the concepts in Portia’s mind, but had no grasp of magic whatsoever. The most important fact she learned from the Exalted Ottugh was the fact that they had been in its care for weeks. Weeks!

According to it, one of the forward scouts had encountered the two of them lying unconscious in the center of a scorched ring of stone. Where they’d come from, who they were, even what they were, was a mystery. During their unconscious period, their bodies had been brought before the Exalted Ottugh several times, though it never managed to glean anything from them. Since they didn’t show any signs of recovery, it gave permission to one of the Ottugh doctors to experiment on them. What the nature of the experiments were, that was between the doctor and the One-Who-Knows, their deity.

Portia tried not to be angry with them. Their actions were only taken after a great amount of forethought and contemplation. Best she didn’t share that revelation with Bea, for their sakes. Her sister once beat up a boy for trying to kiss her, and she’d even admitted she liked him. Bea just had a strange aversion to being touched.

“We want to leave,” Portia stated abruptly, startling the Exalted Ottugh out of her mind.

“Leave? And go where? You know nothing of our world, humans. If you leave now, you will surely perish. At least allow us to commune with you for a time. A mutual exchange of knowledge can only benefit us.” It made a convincing point. Even Bea had to agree with it, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she pondered the state of affairs they were in.

After a few moments of contemplation, Bea let out a breath through clenched teeth and shrugged. “What the hell, right? I mean, worse comes t’worse, I c’n always break a few off.” She cracked her knuckles, giving the Ottugh leader a pointed look and it quickly assured her there would be no reason for her to resort to any more violence. They were a peaceful race by necessity. Their only protection was their intellect and the Vitir they cultivated. Guards and spears were basically only for show.

“...Alright. But we will be leaving in two weeks, regardless. I need to find a way to return us to our realm.”


	3. A Learning Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bea and Portia learn more about their predicament.

Days one through three were torturous for the girls. They had to constantly fight to keep a good attitude about things. The first night was by far the worst. Bea had woken up to Portia crying in her sleep, which got _her_ going, which then woke Portia and the two held each other and wept for nearly an hour before exhaustion overtook them. As time passed, however, they grew accustomed as only youth could.

Near the end of their first week, Portia had confronted the doctor about what exactly it had done to them. At first, she was horrified. It had implanted foreign organs in them, harvested tissue, even going so far as to poke around in their _brains_. When she demanded it undo everything, it explained that there was no way to do so. The surgery had taken, and to remove the organs would cause a terrible hormonal imbalance. Originally it had just intended to use them as farms, harvesting fluids the organs produced to supplement the Ottugh’s diets.

“What, exactly, do these extraneous organs do?” Portia growled, brandishing her book. She’d become used to the rigors of spellcasting fairly quickly, and so the repeated refreshing of her understanding spell no longer tired her.

“They… Well, they change the way your body chemistry works. We didn’t know how they would interact with you, and still don’t. Only time will tell what exactly the effects will be.” It wrung its hands as Porta’s brows furrowed in annoyance.

“Make a projection,” she demanded. Portia felt the gentlest brush of the doctor’s mind on hers, slapping it away and baring her teeth.

“If I am to project, I need more data. Please, allow me to see the current environment in your body.” Slowly, the girl relented, allowing it to probe. Rather than allowing it to lie to her, however, she forced her way into its mind and rode the feedback loop, watching from it’s point of view as it examined her. This made the doctor uncomfortable, but also a little excited. One of the things they tried was implanting an Ottugh gland in the girls’ brains, giving them a taste of psionicism. It appeared to really take hold in Portia, explaining her ability to push back. The other changes they’d made didn’t really make much difference in her. Her development looked to be mental in nature.

Bea was summoned to the doctor’s quarters for an examination as well. The doctor began to probe her mind, only to find… nothing. It gurgled in surprise, circling Bea and checking her from all sides. The girl certainly had to have _some_ mental functions. She was breathing, after all, and glaring at it. But each time it delved into her mind, there was only vast infinite space. Changing tactics, it simply checked Bea’s physical development.

“Fascinating. Your sister has… well, if I didn’t know otherwise, I would have assumed she was a mindless construct. Her physique has developed quite well, though. The hormonal glands I implanted in her are forcing her body to optimize. We need to change her diet. Bea needs proteins and lipids to maintain her current metabolic rate, or else she may starve. She will have to be put on Vitir feed.”

Put on Vitir feed? Those things ate whatever they caught wandering around in the caves surrounding Ottugh territory! Portia remarked as much, but to her surprise, Bea just put a hand to her stomach as it growled. “Hey, beats eatin’ nothin’ but puddin’ an’ mushrooms all day. Them spiders eat good. I seen th’ size’a th’ haunches these brainfolk feed’m. I been cravin’ meat since we got here. Well… Since we been awake.” Bea didn’t seem surprised, or even upset, that they’d messed with her body. ‘If it ain’t hurtin’ me, I don’t care,’ was her explanation. Portia still had things to learn about her sister, it seemed.

Portia actually rather enjoyed sharing meals with the Ottugh. She always felt energized and alert afterwards. Another sign that their development was diverging down polar opposite paths, despite having identical operations. The sisters left their ‘consulting physician’ to continue studies. Bea actually had a fairly competent grasp on geography, consistently able to match Portia’s performance in the lessons they had. They learned the general lay of the land, including major and minor territories, as well as the capitals of each. Where they were now, Ottugh territory, lay in the south western corner of a massive mountain range, home to the bulk of the dwarves on this continent.

The Ottugh theorized there were other continents but had no knowledge of where they were or what inhabited them. On this one, called Rohdan by the Aesir, there were a multitude of beings. Dwarves, gnomes, goblins, monstrous spiders, and deep elves called the Stonerib mountains home. To the east lay a great desert, where the catfolk, djinni, and ftharth roamed. South of Stonerib was a long and thin strip of badlands, home of orcs, but beyond that a great fertile plains. The Aesir laid claim to that area, building their extravagant cities at whim. To the west of the Aesir plains, all the way up to Stonerib’s upper reaches, was the Elder Dark forest. There dwelled the elves, halflings, centaurs, and most magical animals. North of everything was the snowy tundra, where the giants, ice trolls, frost devils, and drakes warred constantly.

There were, of course, smaller patches of territory dotting the continent, but those were the most important. After geography lessons, they had language. Magic wasn’t always allowed in the land, and sometimes actively reviled, so being able to learn languages would be a necessary skill for their continued survival. Thanks to the modifications made to their bodies, it wasn’t overly taxing. Even Bea picked it up with relative ease, at least compared to her almost allergic aversion to learning back home. The Ottugh in charge of that class taught them the absolute basics in every common tongue. Aesir, Elvish, Stonetongue, Gnomish, and Dunespeak were the most widespread languages. No one on the continent would understand or recognize English, at least not if they weren’t scholars in long dead or unused languages. 

So progressed their time with the Ottugh peoples. To their surprise, the two week deadline set by Portia approached with alarming speed. She almost didn’t want to go, now that she’d gotten accustomed to their presence. They’d made friends with these strange monsters, learned about them… But, they needed to move on.

Portia had also been spending a lot of time reading her book and came to the conclusion that if they were going to get home, she would need to be stronger in the ways of magic. A lot stronger. Opening portals between realities should have been impossible, or at minimum required more energy than any mortal would have possessed. How Portia did it still escaped her understanding, but maybe with more journeying under their belt, they’d find answers.

Putting their knowledge of geography to good use, the girls decided the next best place to go would be to the elves. According to the Ottugh, the fairer folk were the de facto experts in magic of all kinds. Not necessarily the most skilled or most powerful, but the most knowledgeable by far. So, with packs full of rations and a Vitir to guide them to the exit, Bea and Portia bid farewell to their hosts.


	4. Out of the Frying Pan...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when Portia and Bea were getting settled in, the mage girl uproots them to begin their journey.

If only plans were that simple. The two had been ambushed by a troupe of goblins about halfway to the exit. Their Vitir fought valiantly to protect the girls, but against the overwhelming numbers in favor of their enemies, it was a hopeless battle. Bea had stood frozen for a time, watching the spider beast maul goblins and get riddled with stab wounds, until Portia grabbed her hand and dragged her away into a connecting tunnel, leaving the Vitir to its fate.

Once they were out of earshot, Portia pulled her sister to the side and muttered a quick spell, granting them both darkvision. “Bea, we’re going to have to do this on our own. We- Bea. Bea!” Portia slapped her sister lightly on the cheek to snap her out of her trance. “Bea, we can’t worry about the Vitir right now. We’re in grave danger. You remember our lessons? Those goblins will kill us.”

Another spell came tumbling out of Portia’s mouth as she pulled a stone spear from the very walls around them, handing it to Bea. The bigger girl looked down at it curiously, though once it registered that she was armed, her grip tightened on the spear. “What ‘bout you, squirt?”

“What about me? I have magic. I’ve memorized most of the spells in this book already. Are you ready? We have to go back the way we came and keep down the path. That means we will be fighting them.” Bea’s eyes widened at that, but seeing her little sister grimly steel herself for the oncoming battle spurred her to do the same. They exchanged nods and returned to the path. Portia stopped them at the T intersection, looking both left and right. To the left, where they’d come from, a cluster of goblins huddled around the Vitir’s corpse, feeding on it. To the right, blackness. She’d dropped her torch when the attack first began, and could see it spluttering near the group of goblins.

Even further down the tunnel to the left was the nearly invisible path the goblins had ambushed them from. Portia flipped through her book, muttering under her breath. “I thought y’said you memorized all th’ spells in there.”

“I did. I’m looking for a ritual right now. There is a tunnel down that way where they came from. It would be prudent for me to seal it to prevent them from getting reinforcements.” Bea closed her mouth, white-knuckling the spear in anticipation. She watched her little sister read from the book, chanting quietly in that same hair-raising language. As she spoke the final word, her left hand sprayed blood on the wall, this time a different shape than before. The goblins cried out in surprise as their escape tunnel sealed over, chattering amongst themselves suspiciously.

One grabbed up the torch Portia had dropped and held it overhead, creeping down the tunnel towards the girls with it’s fellows at it’s back. Portia stepped out into the tunnel itself and barked a word at them. The lead goblin turned curiously, only to be blasted into the wall opposite her as the torch exploded. At least three of the eight were taken out by the blast, but now the others were alerted to Portia and Bea’s location. They drew weapons and advanced on their prey, screaming war cries as they went. Bea leapt out from behind the doorway and jabbed the closest goblin in the head with her spear, grazing off it’s thick skull and knocking it off balance.

Bea hesitated a half moment, frightened by the sight of blood. She snapped out of it when another goblin leapt over it’s writhing fellow and swung the crude mace it carried at her. Blocking the swing on instinct, Bea’s eyes widened as the weapon smashed through hers and slammed into her leg, almost fracturing the bone with the force of it. A feral howl of pain sprang from her throat as she jammed the jagged back end of the spear through it’s eye. Looking to her left, she saw Portia barely dodge out of the way of a wicked looking dagger, one arm hanging limply at her side while the other used her book as a makeshift weapon.

“Don’t worry about me, Bea, focus on yourself!” she snapped, somehow knowing her sister was looking at her instead of the battle. Following Portia’s advice, the bigger girl turned just in time to see the two stragglers advancing on her simultaneously. They held a pair of daggers each, moving to flank her. Bea managed to get herself backed up against a wall, forcing them to stay within reach of her half-spear.

Goblin one, adorned with blue facepaint, smiled at her, while it’s partner, adorned with red, had a grim expression. Bea clumsily jabbed at the two, panic evident on her face. They could tell and were just waiting to capitalize on it. What Blue wasn’t expecting was for Red to get a knife to the back of the head and collapse. Portia stood there, looking tired and upset, staring at Bea in aggravation. Bea realized this was her chance and thrust forward with the spear, slicing through Blue’s throat and killing him in seconds.

With a sigh, Portia pulled the knife from the back of Red’s head and made sure the rest were also taken care of, a look of distaste on her face. The flames of the burning goblins were starting to die down, but Portia wasn’t worried. She stripped a couple of the creatures of their armor, wrinkling her nose at the smell. “Portia, you awright? Your arm loo-”

“It’s fine, Bea,” she interrupted quietly. “Once I rest for a time, I will have the strength sufficient to heal it. Are you alright?” She handed Bea a chestpiece and harness for some weapons, indicating she should collect them.

“Yeah, m’fine. Jus’ whacked me in th’ leg. I’ll be sore tomorrah, but tha’s ‘bout it.” Bea donned the proffered gear and grabbed a few daggers, trying to ignore the horrible feeling in her gut. She and Portia just killed people. Sure, it was in self defense, but… Portia didn’t even seem upset about it, either. Where did this cool, collected, in charge person come from, and where was her nervous little sister?

Once they’d armed themselves, Portia led them down the tunnel again. Why she hadn’t just used darkvision in the first place instead of a torch escaped her. Perhaps it was due to her being a novice at it all. Portia took mental notes about the encounter, fixing the details in her mind so she wouldn’t make the same mistakes again.

After several hours of walking, the girls finally reached a fork in the tunnels and ground to a halt. If they chose wrong, they would be most likely lost in these mountains until they died of thirst. What to do… Oh wait, magic. Of course. Portia thought about the cost versus gain of trying another spell in her weakened state. If it got too strenuous, she could always have Bea carry her, right? Bea was strong, and the younger sister didn’t weigh that much. But just making that decision without consulting Bea was wrong.

“Bea, I am considering using more magic to try and discern the proper route. It may weaken me to the point where I won’t be able to move, temporarily. Do you want to risk it, or just take a guess and go?” Her sister looked her over, biting her lip apprehensively. 

“Do it, I’ll jus’ carry ya if you cain’t move none. Better’n bein’ stuck in these damn mountains til kingdom come.”

Portia nodded once and sat, holding her book with her good arm, and breathed out. She mouthed the words to her next spell and slumped over without warning. Bea dropped to her knees with a cry of surprise and grabbed her just in time to prevent her from smacking her head on the ground.

The burgeoning mage blazed down the tunnels as a projection of her consciousness, backtracking whenever the current tunnel turned downwards. It was getting harder and harder to focus the farther she got, but just as the last vestiges of her strength were fading, she saw a patch of dirt on the tunnel floor. That was the way out. Portia opened her eyes, struggling to focus her gaze on anything. Their darkvision had faded, cannibalized to fuel her astral projection. “I know where to go. I will guide us. Can you carry me, Bea?”

“Yeah, sure thing, squ- Portia.” Bea carefully maneuvered her sister up onto her back, carrying her by her legs while Portia wrapped her arms around Bea’s neck. She hiked through the mountain, following her sister’s mumbled directions. Bea didn’t question how Portia knew where they were going even with her head resting on Bea’s shoulders. The girl used magic, if she said turn left or right, Bea was damn well going to.

“We have reached the end of what I remember,” she reported suddenly, startling Bea. “There was dirt on the ground here, however. If we keep heading upwards, the chances of us exiting this dreadful mountain range are quite high.” With a nod, Bea took a deep breath, increasing her hustle. She could feel a slight breeze after another ten minutes, following it eagerly.

Now winded but determined, Bea almost broke into a run when she saw stars in the distance, as if peering through a keyhole. “Almost… there, Portia! Jus’ a… little… farther!” The two finally reached the entrance to the tunnels, finding themselves in the middle of a deciduous forest that grew up the slope. A forest? They must have been very deep underground then, Bea felt she’d been climbing for hours. She walked over to a tree and carefully set Portia against it, checking the girl over with concern. Her vitals were stable, if a little weak.

Water. They needed water. Well, just about a mile up the mountain was all the water they could want for, in the form of snow. Bea didn’t know if she could carry Portia up there and back, though. Not safely. “Portia. Hey, wake up. Listen, I’m gonna go get some water. Can y’walk?”

“Yes, I feel better.”

“Okay, good. I’ll be gone a bit, jus’ hikin’ up that way. Anythin’ comes along, you jus’ shout fer me an’ I’ll come runnin’ back.” Portia nodded, cradling her injured arm against her chest and maneuvering herself so she could watch Bea’s progress. _No magic_ , she reminded herself, _not for a while, at least_. Watching Bea go sent pangs of guilt through her. She should have been more useful. Contributed more. The younger sister tried to get up and follow Bea, but her vision swam and she sank back down to the ground.

Bea scooped up a large ball of snow, roughly the size of a newborn, into a pilfered leather square, after she’d scrubbed it relatively clean, of course. Carefully tying it so there was only one hole in the top, she descended back towards her sister. By the time she’d gotten back, enough ice had melted that Portia could get a decent drink from it. She made a face at the leather flavor, but didn’t complain. “Thanks, Bea.”

Smiling, Bea took a little drink for herself and nodded. “Sure thing, squirt. Rest up. You gotta make sure yer arm don’t get infected an’ such. I’ll keep watch.” Portia gratefully leaned into her sister’s shoulder and drifted away almost instantly. Despite saying she’d keep watch, Bea soon fell asleep herself. The two of them spent the night plagued by nightmares, though they managed to sleep all the way through anyways.


	5. ... Into the Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The girls get their first taste of life on their own in this world. It isn't pleasant.

Waking first, Portia tried to stretch, though the ripping pain that spread through her arm and shoulder brought tears streaming down her cheeks instantly. After taking a moment to compose herself, proud that she didn’t make any noise despite the pain, the girl picked up her book and waited til it moved to a chapter on healing. There were several spells there which seemed fairly redundant until she read the fine print.

The first one, which she’d been about to try, used the energy of the caster to heal another person. Probably best to be used on Bea, then… Another only healed magical wounds. Portia rubbed her temple with her good hand, wondering how many times in the past two weeks she’d cast a spell improperly. More importantly, she wondered why exactly there were such arbitrary constraints on the spells themselves. Did it matter whether she said potato with a hard or soft ‘A’? Better safe than sorry, though.

With a deep breath and a bit of courage, Portia mumbled through the healing spell she’d chosen, which drew ambient energy from the world around her to speed up her body’s natural process. That seemed safest. It wasn’t the least painful though, as she came to find out. Portia gritted her teeth against the uncomfortable feeling of her shoulder knitting together and pushing any foreign debris out of the wound. One of the goblins had snuck up behind her while she was distracted by its fellow and dragged a sword down her back, though it found itself choking on the blade when Portia swung around and slammed into it with her book. The book…

She took the time to finally think about the book. There was something about it that made her uneasy, but at the same time, it had an aura about it that made Portia think she could take on the world with whatever was contained within. Bea waking up beside her roused the girl out of her thought process. She quickly cast the same healing spell on Bea.

“Yeouch!” cried her older sister, touching her leg gingerly. “What th’ hell’d you do t’me?”

“Punished you for falling asleep when you said you were going to keep watch,” Portia responded, hands on her hips. Before Bea could argue, she raised her hand and laughed. “No, I just healed your wounds. I understand. The previous day’s events were quite exhausting. I harbor no ill judgement against you for it.” Closing her mouth without a sound, Bea blinked twice and then stood.

“Well… Thanks, Portia.” As soon as they were both upright, the duo set off down the slope of the mountain. If their geography lessons were to be trusted, they’d emerged on the south face of the mountain, right at the edge of the badlands. From what Portia remembered, the Ottugh’s home in the south westernmost portion of the mountain range was still several hundred miles away from the forest, since they had to circle around other mountains through the badlands to get to their destination.

Their first day of travel passed uneventfully, keeping the mountain to their right as they trekked through the knee high grass of the badlands. Portia raised a little cave for them out of the earth to sleep in at night, siphoning the life energy from a large circle of grass around them, which withered and died instantly. Very creepy. Bea was appreciative of her sister’s advancing progress, but at the same time, she feared it just the tiniest bit. With a word, Portia could suck the life out of whatever she wanted to fuel her magic…

On the third day of travel, she did it again, though this time the spell’s express purpose was to kill. They saw a deer bounding around, frolicking with other plainslife, and on a whim, Portia snapped her fingers and killed it. Snuffed it out just like that. She’d been prepared to leave it too, until Bea gave her a long, upset lecture about wasteful killing. It brought a bit of the old Portia back, bowing her head in shame at being chastised by her idol. Nevertheless, Bea remarked that it would at least bolster their rations, so it wasn’t entirely a waste. Using one of the goblin’s knives, Bea expertly field dressed the carcass, with some magical aid from Portia.

“Hm… We gotta dry th’ meat somehow, else it’s gonna spoil. I’ll build a fire an’ we c’n smoke it. Lemme see if I c’n get some wood’n such.” Bea wandered off, returning empty handed after a while, only to find everything arranged neatly on the gutted skin of the deer. Its viscera had been stacked in a pile, while all the meat was cut into even strips and dried. Portia sat nearby, reading from her book nonchalantly. “Y… Portia, y’cain’t use magic fer everythin’. Remember what them brainfolk said? There’s places we’d get in real big trouble fer it. Plus, what happens if y’cain’t use it a’tall? Gotta learn t’do things with yer own hands.”

Glancing up at Bea in agitation, Portia closed her book and sighed. “That would have taken ages, Bea. We don’t even have wood to make a fire. How about this, we will make an agreement. I will only use magic when it is prudent or there is no other option, and all other times, we will do things the hard way. Deal?”

Bea didn’t even hesitate. “Deal,” she agreed, spitting in her palm and holding her hand out to Portia, who grimaced. Damn, she wasn’t expecting Bea to just agree to that. Still, there wasn’t a lot of choice here. No one kept their word like Bea, and she expected others to do so as well. Ugh, and she spit in her hand. Doubly binding. Nevertheless, Bea expected her to do it, so she did, shaking her sister’s hand solemnly.

After another couple days of travel, the girls were on the verge of collapse. They had food aplenty, but no water. So disoriented were they that they didn't notice the troupe of horse mounted riders until it was too late to hide. Bea and Portia huddled near one another, anxiously watching the strangely vicious men ride in circles around them, whooping and shouting vicious war cries. Finally they stopped and what appeared their leader dropped off his horse.

They were orcs, without a doubt. Tall, muscular but lean, greyish skin, riding their horses bareback. The leader sported a wild mane of jet black hair, which reached down to his shoulders. He approached the two and grunted at them questioningly, moving with a confident swagger. Looking the girls over, the man rubbed his strong, square chin, then reached out to grab Bea. Wrong move.

Even half dead from thirst, Bea still had enough strength to throw a feral haymaker up into the man's jaw and dropped him like a sack of rocks. Instantly, the other men raised their bows and nocked arrows, shouting at the girls in surprise and outrage. Portia stepped forward and raised her hands, pleading with them in every language she knew to not hurt them.

The orc Bea had hit struggled up to a sitting position, rubbing his jaw in wonder. He called to his men to stand down, accepting a hand from one of them who had jumped down to help. "What manner of creature are you?" he finally asked in Stonetongue, his deep bass rumbling in his chest. "Too tall and fair to be dwarves, too short to be elves. No wings, so not Aesir..."

Good, they could talk to one another. Portia let out a relieved breath and smiled at him. "No, no, we aren't any of those. My sister and I are human. Please, do you have any water?" Human? The orcs lapsed back into their native tongue, conversing with one another suspiciously. Raising his hand, the orc leader silenced them, grabbing a leather waterskin off his chest harness and tossing it to Portia. She fumbled the bag, scooping it eagerly off the ground with no regard to embarrassment for her missed catch. After drinking her fill, she handed the skin to Bea, who drained it.

"Humans. So the legends are true. You, small one, give me your hand. No, not that one. The marked one." Portia held out her left hand, watching the orc leader kneel down and take it in his massive one and run a finger over the scars that had formed on her palm. The first design, the one that had brought them to this world, had taken hold. No matter what happened to her hand, that scar was always there. She couldn't even magic it away.

Satisfied, he stood and looked between the two. "Names?"

"I am Portia, and that is my sister Bea."

"And I am Durv An-Mokr." Portia raised her brows. That name sounded... familiar. "You, Bea. Are you a warrior?"

A warrior? Hardly. She was a farm girl. "Naw, I ain't a warrior. Jus' been in a few scrapes in my day." Durv nodded and approached her, tilting his body to lessen his profile and raising his fists. Despite what she just said, Bea adopted a boxer's stance, having learned a little from one of her dad's friends when she was younger. She waited for a moment, though it became clear that Durv was expecting her to begin.

Portia nervously backed away, clearing space for them. This had an almost ceremonial air to it, judging by the expressions on the other orcs faces. They'd all gotten off their horses, arms crossed and watching gravely. Hunching her shoulders, Bea took a deep breath before beginning her assault.

She bobbed to the left and feinted a jab on that side, only to come in strong with a right hook. Durv saw it coming a mile away and deflected it with an elbow block. What he didn't see was the feinted jab snap back and strike him in the ribs while he was distracted by her second feint. He grunted in surprise and snapped a kick at Bea, catching her full in the stomach and throwing her to the ground.

Unphased, but a little winded, Bea got to her feet quickly and came back at him, arms up in front of her and weaving side to side. The orc chief had never seen a fighting style like that before. She had so many openings, so many places for him to strike, he felt sure she was just trying to lure him in before using some other trick. Bea ducked down, rushing in with an uppercut, which Durv deflected and countered with a chop to her shoulder. She didn't seem to notice, circling around and coming in again with a three punch combo, the third of which struck Druv in the ribs again.

They continued to spar for another few minutes, until Durv called it off. She was tired, he could tell, but the dogged determination Bea displayed had him worried. What if she got a second wind? Despite being smaller than even the women of his tribe, Bea hit like a man. He would have to get his ribs tended to by a healer; he felt for sure she'd cracked a couple.

"Humans," he finally said, breathing heavily from the fighting. "Come back to our tribe."

"Y'got food?"

"Aplenty."

"Hot?"

"It will burn your mouth, if you so desire."

"...I could eat," Bea finally said, stomach growling. The orcs all laughed at that. Durv set the girls on the back of his horse and walked beside them, sending a runner ahead to instruct the women to begin cooking their evening meal. He was surprised by how easily his horse got accustomed to Bea, though it seemed unnerved by Portia's presence. "I lived on a farm basically m'whole life. Me 'n animals get along like peaches 'n cobbler."

Durv wrinkled his nose curiously. "What are... peaches and cobbler?" Bea almost fell off the horse in surprise before gushing about how her mother made the best peach cobbler in the state. Many of the things Bea referenced, like 'ovens' and 'state fair', were obviously over Durv's head, but he got the gist of it. The orcs didn't eat sugary or sweet things very often. They were very hard to come by and expensive to purchase from travelling merchant caravans. Portia remained silent the whole time, sitting in reverse on the horse and watching the mountains as they traveled.

Portia really hoped she could find something like the food the Ottughs fed her. This living on jerky and grain business was playing hell with her cognitive activity. At least Bea was feeling good about it. The girl craved meat all the time now, and if Portia wasn't imagining it, she'd grown almost an inch already. Meanwhile, she hadn't changed at all. Hadn't grown up, out, nothing. Still a fragile, delicate little doll. Hmph.

It didn't take long for them to get back to the orc tribe's current settlement. They were a nomadic culture, packing up and moving whenever the chief said so, which usually was only when game in the area got scarce. As Bea and Portia were helped down off the horse, a troupe of children ran up to them eagerly, wondering what humans even looked like. They were disappointed.

"They're just short elves..." grumbled one of the boys, eliciting a laugh from the chief, who picked him up and placed him on his shoulders. "Wahoo! Papa, did you catch any wandering woolly cows today?"

"No I didn't, Cab'n. I found humans. I think that's a little more valuable." Cab'n decided not to argue with his father, instead twining his chubby fingers through the man's hair and riding along as they walked to the center of the village. "Bea, Portia, come this way. The meal should be almost ready," he called to them in Stonetongue. Bea didn't need to be told twice. She followed her nose eagerly, salavating at the smell of roast meat and spices.

Great. Willingly taken prisoner by these barbarians. Portia resolved to always be on her guard around them, though she couldn't really put her finger on why she was so suspicious. Maybe just because they were big, dumb, and muscular.


	6. A Moment's Respite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a shorter one this time. Bea and Portia spend time with the Orcs.

Durv had told Portia that the shaman would want to see her, but he was currently very sick. She would have to wait until he recovered enough to discuss her situation with him. The tribe was supposed to have packed up and moved a day ago, but with how critical their shaman's condition was, they had no choice but to wait it out. Portia had offered to just heal him with magic, but Durv assured her that would only do more harm than good. It was an affliction of the mind he incurred through communing with the dead. He would just have to fight it off.

That meant Portia had nothing to do besides join the children in their chores or help the women with cooking. She couldn't stay with Bea. Bea was working with the men of the tribe, learning to fight with them. Being alone brought her no comfort, though. The children were simpletons, and the women refused to speak to her besides giving orders. Portia had no peers here. In a way, she envied Bea, envied her ability to just not use her brain in favor of hitting things and be happy with it.

Wandering to the arena where daily sparring was held, Portia sat on the dusty ground and watched her sister get the everloving snot beaten out of her by three men at once. What was worse was that she _liked_ it. Her big sister enjoyed getting beaten up. Said it 'built character' and taught her lots of valuable skills. Picking up Bea's thick glasses, which had been set on the edge of the sparring circle, Portia watched her sibling take a powerful uppercut to the stomach, returning one with apparently just as much force to her attacker, who doubled over with her.

"Enough!" called the combat teacher, a lithe orc named Wrisk. He was taller than the others, slimmer, and kept his hair neat and trimmed instead of growing out a mane like the more burly members of the tribe. He was also younger than most of the men, though his prowess in hand to hand combat had quickly elevated him to teacher status in the tribe. Portia could tell he had also taken a liking to Bea, which she found amusing. If only he knew what he was in for. Not like she was going to warn him. That'd ruin the fun.

Wrisk held his hand out to Bea to help her up, blinking in surprise as she swatted it away in annoyance. They'd been with the tribe for a week, and from day one, he'd been on her like ugly on a monkey. It had gotten to the point where she was actively being rude to him, hoping he would get the message and leave her alone. Wrisk was a fancy pants kung fu type, which Bea had no patience for. She preferred to plant her feet on the ground and just wail on whatever was in front of her.

Her continued refusals had the opposite effect on Wrisk than she'd hoped, though. He thought she was just demanding he prove himself to her. Well today he'd worked up his courage. Handing Bea one of the tribe's medicinal remedies for fatigue, he took his place in the circle and adopted a martial stance.

"Awright, Wrisk, if y'want t'get yer ass whupped..." she murmured in English, rolling her shoulders. The medicine blazed through her body, filling her with renewed vigor and easing the pain of her earlier beating. Bea wasted no time, ducking behind her raised arms and rushing him. Wrisk seemed a little hesitant to actually hit her, which led to him getting lifted off the ground completely and dropped on his shoulders in a vicious suplex.

Dazed, the young orc man rolled over onto his stomach, wondering where she'd learned how to do that. His swimming vision focused on Bea's feet, bobbing back and forth in front of him, giving him a target. Wrisk's hand shot out and grabbed hold of Bea's right ankle, freezing her movement. She grabbed him by the hair and pulled him upright, preparing to slug him right in the face, but he realized the danger and hit her in the solar plexus, driving the wind out of her lungs as he sprang to his feet.

The orc instantly regretted it, seeing the tears of pain streaming down Bea's cheeks. He went up to her, concern on his face. "Bea, I'm sorry, I didn't mean t-" The human girl interrupted him with a savage growl, launching into a blitz of punches to his body, finishing with an elbow across his jaw. Wrisk crumpled, completely nonsensical after that assault. His comrades cheered, laughing at him.

"Don' ever underestimate me cuz I'm a girl, Wrisk. I ain't some delicate flower, an' I _ain't_ yer girl. I heard ye talkin' t'yer buddies 'bout me couple days ago," she whispered raggedly, having crouched down next to him. "You ever lay a hand on me 'gain, I'll break it." Bea had originally had no ill feelings towards him, but after hearing him boast about how he'd take her as his trophy, she lost all respect for the man. Maybe some orc woman would feel flattered by that, having someone protect and boast about her, but not Bea. She wanted to be treated as an equal.

Meeting her little sister at the edge of the circle, Bea sat next to her, accepting her glasses and looking Portia over. "Hey squirt, you doin' okay. Ain't seen y'much recently."

"I have been aiding the women and children with their tasks while waiting for the shaman to recover. Your training has been going well, I see. Thrashed him pretty good." Bea waved a hand dismissively.

"Naw, he went easy on me. Th' fool thinks jus' cuz I'm a girl, he ain't allowed t'hit me. Even after watchin' his buddies do 'zactly that. Whatcha think th' shaman wants with ye?"

"No idea. Durv seemed to recognize the mark on my hand, so I assume it has something to do with that." Portia rotated her left hand palm up, looking at the arcane scar contemplatively. The perfect circle had many zigzagging lines inside it, along with several smaller circles and symbols, forming a bizarre and unsettling pattern. She spared Wrisk a glance as he was helped up by his tribe mates, wondering what year it was, then shook her head. "I need to go check in with the women. Preparations for dinner should begin soon."


End file.
